


As my last chance to feel human begins to vaporize

by zinabug



Category: The Mechanisms (Band)
Genre: Angst, Carmillas A+ parenting, Dissociation, Gen, Hurt No Comfort, Implied/Referenced Medical Malpractice, Self-Harm, Suicidal Thoughts, Whump, canon typical war crimes, canon-typical blood, he needs a hug and I intend to get him one, identity crisis, nastya is having a Bad Bad Time, whatever the fuck Brian has going on
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-13
Updated: 2020-05-23
Packaged: 2021-03-02 20:15:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 4,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24162655
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zinabug/pseuds/zinabug
Summary: Brian interacting with the crew of the Aurora, but sad. Because they’re all sad and also Brian needs a hug.Title from autoclave by the mountain goats
Relationships: Drumbot Brian & Dr Carmilla, Drumbot Brian & Gunpowder Tim, Drumbot Brian & Ivy Alexandria, Drumbot Brian & Marius von Raum, Drumbot Brian & Nastya Rasputina, Drumbot Brian & The Toy Soldier
Comments: 54
Kudos: 159





	1. I reach deep down within but the pathways twist and turn

**Author's Note:**

> relationships will be tagged as chapters are posted, warnings will be in chapter notes. read the warnings and stay safe <3 this is a very tentatively rated T fic

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TWs FOR THIS CHAPTER: identity crisis

What does it mean to be human?

Brian asked the Aurora. He asked himself, over and over again. He even asked the Toy Soldier when it joined him to “play mental breakdown.” 

_ What does it mean to be human? _

Can you still be human when almost every bit of you isn’t? 

It’s not like he’d wanted to die, but he’d rather die a human then live whatever he was now.

“Drumbot, dear, would you mind setting a course to these coordinates?” 

He wanted to tell her  _ my name is Brian  _ but he just bit his lip and nodded and set the course. He wanted to ask her  _ why? Why did you do this to me?  _ But he just tightened his hands on the wheel and felt her hand lightly brush the side of his neck where the switch was. 

* * *

“Drumbot, what are you doing?” The voice was strange, like a person imitating a computer. The archivist, Ivy, spoke like that. 

He rolled over to look at her. She was holding a flash drive. “I’m having an identity crisis, Ivy.” 

She nodded, after a minute of quiet. “Can I join you?” 

“Yeah. My name’s Brian, by the way, not Drumbot.”

There was a very quiet whirring and Ivy blinked a few times. “Brian, can I join you?” 

He didn’t expect to cry at the sound of his name. 

At least, whatever passed as crying when you didn’t have proper tears and just found your chest moving like you were sobbing and leaked machine oil out of your face. 

Ivy lay face down on the floor next to him and spun the beads on her necklace around and around in silence until Brian stopped. 

“Do people have an identity crisis often?” Ivy asked. 

“I do.” Brian said. “All the time.” 

Ivy nodded, her face still mostly on the floor. “Right. What does an identity crisis mean?”

Brian closed his eyes. If he could feel pain, they would have hurt. “When you realize you don't know who you are and then you panic.” 

There was another quiet whirr from Ivy. “From your information I have determined I am having an identity crisis all the time.” 

Brian hummed into the floor. “Join the club.” 

“There’s a club?” 

“There is now. Us, that glittery octokitten I found last week and the Toy Soldier.” 

“The identity crisis club?” Ivy rolled onto her side. 

“The Carmilla-completely-re-created-our-body-And/or-mind-club.” Brian rolled over to face her. “That’s really long, actually, the identity crisis club works.” 

Ivy nodded again. 

Brian sighed and reached up to fiddle with his switch, on MJE. He’d found he couldn't tell lies on MJE, and wondered briefly if it counted if he didn’t know the truth, or was it telling a white lie. 

“Ivy, what makes someone human?” Brian asked. “Your body, your morals, your memories? What if you don’t have any of those?” 

Ivy blinked twice. “Human. Adjective.  relating to or characteristic of people or human beings. Human. Noun. a human being, especially a person as distinguished from an animal or (in science fiction) an alien.” 

Brian sighed again. “Thanks, Ivy. I don’t remember so much of who I was before  _ this. _ ” 

“I don’t remember anything.” Ivy said. “Unless I dream- and I prefer not to.” 

Her voice sounded a little more human, with inflections she had clearly picked up from Brian. He briefly wondered how Carmilla had given him such a human sounding voice before he decided he didn’t care. 

“We’ve both been learning how to be ourselves again.” Brian said. “Whatever that means.” 

Ivy shrugged, which looked like it would be uncomfortable while lying on the floor. “I don’t know what that means. Myself. There’s only the numbers.” 

Brian knew his mechanism was more complex than any of the others, with Ivy right below him. He also knew that his brain was less like a computer then hers- Carmilla had gotten a chance to practice. He thought the last part with more bitterness than he thought he had in him. 

The two of them were quiet for a little longer before Ivy stood up. “This flash drive has your next flight coordinates.” She placed it on his chair and left the room. 

Brian stayed on the floor for a long time. 


	2. Windows thick with frost

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TWs FOR THIS CHAPTER: self harm, blood, implied/referenced medical malpractice, other general Carmilla-ness

He found the engine room by accident. 

Brian didn’t even know what he was looking for- just wandering the ship in some kind of a haze when a voice spoke up. 

“What are you doing here?” The voice was ragged, and so so tired. Brian didn’t think it was possible for a human to sound that exhausted. It was also heavily accented with cybernian. 

Brian shrugged, looking around for the sound of the voice. Nastya, the engineer, was huddled against the wall. There was something silvery pulled under her-it looked like liquid mercury. _Oh, god why was she sitting in it?_

She turned her head to the side and coughed into her hand, subtlety dripping another bead of mercury from her palm onto the floor. 

“Oh god- that’s going to poison you-“ Brian stopped at the look she gave him. 

“I’m dying anyway.” She said, her voice steady. “And it’s not like you can escape poison that runs in your veins.” The engineer pulled a knife from her pocket, and despite Brian’s protests, cut a gash across her palm. More mercury dripped out, adding to the pool. 

Carmilla had told Brian that he couldn’t die anymore, that even if he was killed he would come back, but he hadn’t seen or experienced it. He’d hoped against hope that he wouldn’t- but he didn’t expect it to be a lone woman- girl, really- quietly bleeding out alone, like she had done it a million times. The cut on her hand wasn’t clotting, still dripping beads of mercury. He frowned at it and wondered why. 

“Why are you dying?” He asked suddenly, maneuvering his creaking body to sit on the floor. 

she tapped her left side. “I cut myself of a piece of machinery pretty badly and my blood doesn’t clot.”

Brian stared at her. 

“You get used to dying after a while. I’ve been here longest, after Jonny.” She laughed, which dissolved into a fit of silvery coughs. “He didn’t want any more mechanisms- you should have seen him flip his shit when _the good doctor_ dragged you in. Most of the others were able to give something at least a little like consent.” 

Brian felt cold, despite the warmth of the engine room. 

Nastya suddenly lurched forwards, a jerky pained movement. “I think you should leave.” 

“What? No, I’m a doctor, let me help”

“No. No doctors- please, let me just-“

Neither of them grasped the word hovering between them. 

_Die_. 

Brian stiffly stood up, looking down at Nastya. She was so small, just a kid. Sixteen? Maybe even fifteen she was so small 

He turned and left the room. Carmilla had some explaining to do, if he ever managed to actually say something to her and not just… shut down. 

He leaned his forehead against the wall and struggled to breathe. 


	3. Let me look in your eyes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TWs FOR THIS CHAPTER: war crimes, suicidal thoughts, all the moon war stuff

Why were they all so young? 

He was the oldest out of any of the mechanisms- most of them were far too young to live forever- hell, Nastya wasn’t even eighteen! Some of the crew couldn’t legally drink some places- not that it stopped them. 

Brian slipped into the Docs lab late at night to visit him. The newest  _ kid _ Carmilla had decided to “fix.” 

Timothy was sitting, knees to his chest, on an operating table. He was wearing a stained blindfold. At the sound of Brian’s footsteps, he turned and looked, tensing up as if to run. 

“Timothy? I’m Dru- I’m Brian, the ship's pilot.” 

“Tim.” The boy rasped. “Just Tim.” 

Brian nodded, and realized Tim couldn’t see him. “Right. Tim. Are you okay?” 

“No.” 

Brian sighed. “None of us are. Son, you gotta keep your head up.” 

“He’s dead.” Tim’s voice was hollow. 

“Who?” Brian asked.  _ Every soldier in the moon war? They were all dead. So many- _

“M- my Bertie.” Tim shook his head. “What have I done? I-I killed them all.” 

“Love makes people crazy.” Brian hoped he’d said the right thing as Tim’s shoulders hunched up tighter. 

“I went crazy- I am crazy.” Tim smiled slightly. “That might not be the worst thing.”

Brian didn’t quite know what sanity meant anymore. He didn’t know where the line was, only it was blurred and burned. He sighed. “Son, I’m sorry.” 

Tim tipped his blindfolded face up to the sky. “I’m going to be here forever, aren’t I?”

Brian closed his eyes. “Yes.” 

“Not if I have anything to say about it.” Tim suddenly snarled. “One day, I’m going to die, take my word for it.” 

Brian nodded, feeling so old and tired and empty. “I hope you will.” 

Wishing death for another human wasn’t something he ever thought he would do. He reached up to his switch- EjM -and realized he would do anything to be rid of it, even death. Death scared him, he was human after all  _ -or he had to hope he was-  _ but it had to be better than this living hell. 

  
  
  
  



	4. the dream went on forever, one single static frame

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TWs FOR THIS CHAPTER: dissociation, Panic attack’s/mental breakdowns, thoughts about self harm

  
  


He’d hoped it would understand what it was like. 

The Toy Soldier. 

But it didn’t, it just grinned at him and said something chirpy and somewhat disturbing, and tipped its hat. 

* * *

It was standing in the corner on the bridge, perfectly still. Brian was uneasily watching it from the corner of his eye as he worked on driving, aimlessly wandering the stars. He didn’t like it’s presence. It was somehow similar to him. 

Brian had been floating through a mental haze for days. His body moved mechanically but his mind was somewhere floating among the stars. He wondered where his body was. Probably mostly dust, although his bones might be intact- at least if it had been permitted to rot normally. He added it to the list of things he wanted to ask Carmilla but never would. 

An interesting thing about his mechanical brain- it stored things like files and images and documents on a computer. He could even delete them if he wanted to- but he couldn’t bring himself too. 

Brian wondered if the Toy Soldier had memories-  _ how  _ it had memories. He was pretty sure it remembered things. It remembered times it had joined Brian and sometimes Ivy too to have a mental breakdown. It remembered times Jonny had shot it or burned it or tossed it out the airlock. It remembered how to play chess and cards, although it played horribly and got the games mixed up. 

“Toy Soldier?” Brian asked. “How do you remember?” 

It snapped into a salute. “I Have No Idea!” 

Brian sighed. “Figured. Do you… do you think you’re alive?” 

“No!” the Toy Soldier’s arms snapped back to its sides. “I Am Not Alive!” 

“How do you explain your existence and your sentience then?” Brian knew it was no use, he wouldn’t get a clear answer- it would probably just make him feel worse. 

“I Don’t! I Just Am!” 

“And that's… okay with you?” Brian didn’t know why he was continuing the conversation. It was starting to hurt, piercing through the fog. 

“Yes!” it grinned. 

“Why do you follow orders like that?” Brian reached up to cover his switch, set to MjE. following orders was… strange for him. Sometimes he had to do it, sometimes he couldn’t- but the Toy Soldier just followed them. 

“I Don’t Know! But It Makes People Happy, So It Makes Me Happy! And That’s Good!” it was grinning, the same identical, dead-eyed grin as every time. Brian hoped he didn’t look like that. He didn't look in mirrors any more, so he couldn’t say. 

Was he alive? 

He didn’t like to think about it, the same way he didn’t like to think about whether or not he was human. 

Brian leaned his head on the steering wheel and put his hand over his chest, feeling the dull  _ thunk, thunk, thunk  _ of his heart. It was so different then how he used to feel his heartbeat, now it grounded him instead of making him afraid like it used to. 

It used to remind him of how fragile his human body was, how mortal he was. 

It reminded him that there was still a little part of him that was  _ Brian,  _ not Carmilla. 

Brian grabbed the front of his shirt and closed his eyes tightly. He could feel the Toy Soldier still watching him, probably with its head tipped to the side and its dead grin. 

He wanted to scream, to cry, to hurt someone. It frightened him. 

“Toy Soldier?” he asked. “I need you to flip my switch before I-” 

_ Before I hurt someone. Before I hurt myself. I can’t do it on MjE and it’ll hurt more but I can’t let myself hurt someone.  _

He dimly heard the Toy Soldier’s “Order Received! Of Course!” and he hardly registered it moving closer to him, but he felt the click of the switch and everything turned upside down and flipped its way into darkness. 


	5. Howling wind and shrieking seagulls

Wings. She had wings. 

Brian didn’t know how she got there, but she was stumbling onto the bridge as she died from several bullet wounds. 

Brian got to his feet and ran over to her as the bridge door closed. He could hear Jonny and- and  _ Nastya _ yelling behind it. Nastya never raised her voice. 

The winged woman was clearly dead. Brian lightly ran a finger along the edge of one of the wings. They were made of metal, intricate and beautiful. 

_ What if-  _

_ No.  _

Her whole body shuddered, and she started coughing as she sat up, spitting blood out of her mouth. 

Brian leaned back as quickly as his creaking body would allow _. Another one.  _

“Where’s carmilla.” He demanded. 

She turned to look at him. “ _ I don’t know who that is-  _ everyone was asking me, over and over, and I don’t know.”

Brian closed his eyes. “How are you alive.” 

She coughed again. “Good question! This is fascinating- is that what death feels like? Did I die?” 

“Yes.” Brian was confused, and hollow. 

“Yes to which question?” she frowned down at her shirt, bloody and badly damaged. “Oh, this is a mess.” 

“I don’t know how you experienced death- but you did die.” Brian stood up and got her one of his spare shirts from a crate tucked under the control console. He didn’t use his bedroom, never had, and he kept his things here, in a storage closet and boxes. It still felt more homelike then the room he had been offered.

He knew most of the crew didn’t use their rooms either, electing to sleep in different places, or not sleep at all, or pass out in random places after not sleeping for days. Tim slept in the gun bay, Jonny had commandeered a few random, formerly empty rooms somewhere on the ship, Nastya slept in the engine room, Biran stayed on the bridge. 

He handed her the shirt. He noticed dimly that he was wearing a lab coat, also ruined, with holes cut in it for the wings. 

She smiled at him. “Thank you- but I’m afraid I’d have to cut holes in the shirt to wear it.” 

“Do whatever you need.” Brian let her modify and change into the shirt, listening intently to the sounds outside. Jonny was still yelling, incomprehensibly, interspersed with gunshots, and he couldn’t hear Nastya at all. Tim was yelling too, at Jonny to  _ stop,  _ and  _ please, calm down for a minute.  _

If Tim, quite possibly one of the most unhinged of their crew, was telling Jonny to calm down, things had to be really bad. 

“Who are you?” Brian asked. His shirt was much too big for her, but it was much better than the tattered bloodstained rag she had been wearing. 

“Raphaella La Cognizi.” she dipped into a half curtsy. “And you?” 

“Drumbot Brian. I pilot the ship.” he tipped his hat in her direction. 

“You’re made of metal!” she sounded fascinated. “Can I touch your arm? Are you magnetic? I  _ love  _ magnets.”

Brian blinked several times. “ah- no, I’m not magnetic. How did you get on board this ship?” 

She instantly became much more serious, folding her wings very tightly to her back. “I- I’m not ready to talk about it. My wings are magnetic!” 

“Yes- about the wings-”

“I made them.” she spread them out. “Amazing, isn’t it?” 

They were beautiful, Brian had to admit it. Delicate, engraved metal and gears. There were places where he could see tiny light bulbs, very well hidden among metalling feathers. From a distance, he could almost believe they were organic, a part of her. 

“They are quite beautiful,” he said. “You said you made them? Did you plan for the… immortality?” 

“Yes.” he caught the hint of steel in her eyes and posture, and he could believe it. 

“Why?” Brian asked. 

“I’m a scientist. I needed to know.” she took a deep breath. “Know  _ everything. _ And you can’t do that on a mortal life span. And besides that,” she spread out her wings again. “This was an experiment too.” 

_ All of us were- are experiments. She just decided to be.  _

“It’s wonderful to meet you, Drumbot Brian.” Raphealla folded her wings again. 

“Just Brian, please.” 

She nodded. “Would you mind telling me why the rest of the crew is trying to kill me?”

“It’s complicated.” Brian said quietly. 

“I have a feeling everything aboard this ship is.” Raphaella sighed. “Do your best? They are trying to kill me.” 

Brian didn’t want to explain. He didn’t want to think about Carmilla, drag up buried memories that were better left filed away. 

“I- I’ll do my best.” Brian regretted the words as soon as they left his mouth. “Carmilla… She started this. Picked us up and fixed something broken and made us immortal, broke us… in a different way. The others think she’s back, she did this to you.” 

Raphaella looked at the floor. “Oh.”

“I’m sorry.” He wasn’t sure what for- probably everything. 

Yes, an apology for everything, and nothing he could help or apologize for. All of it was out of his control- it was always out of his control. He just watched the world spin and spin away from him, and welcomed the newest member of the crew with a clean shirt and the sound of gunfire in the background


	6. Hand me your hand

“It's really okay! I trust you!” 

Marius smiled at Brian. His face was so open, honest, even though Brian knew every other word he’d spoken since he got on board was a lie.

“Are you really sure?” This was different from patching up a wound, the closest thing that could compare to doing  _ maintenance  _ on a  _ human being.  _

“Yes! Like I said, I trust you. And besides, I don’t really know how to do this anyway.” 

Marius… well, he was Marius. Brian hadn’t talked to him very much- certainly not something that would warrant this level of trust. Marius didn’t seem to have any idea what he was doing any of the time. He’d showed up, Jonny had flipped his shit for a solid three months, and now Marius Von Raum was just… there. 

Brian worked on undoing one of the hatches on Marius’s forearm. He’d come to Brian, holding his mechanical arm, twisted and dented, and asking Brian to help. Now, the two of them were in the med bay, Marius’s new domain, while Brian worked. 

“You’ve got a bit stuck here- and a wire got twisted- I think that wire is one of the ones sending pain signals to your brain, no wonder it hurts.” 

“This is surreal.” Marius was watching Brian. “My arm is completely, perfectly replicated- but in metal.” He reached over to point. 

“Yes, I know.” Brian frowned. “This is going to hurt.” 

“Can’t hurt worse then being shot dead by Jonny three times in a row.” Marius was smiling, but Brian could see the pain in it. 

Brian couldn’t make himself unhook the wire, to cause Marius pain, even though he knew it would help in the long run. 

He cursed and reached up to flick his switch from MjE to EjM. Everything flipped, and once his head stopped spinning he unhooked the wire, ignoring Marius’s hiss of pain. 

“What’s on your neck?” Marius asked. He probably would have looked around to see, but he was stuck sitting in place. 

“My switch.” Brian clippers the wire back into its correct spot. He’d noticed that Marius’s arm was much nicer than his. 

“And what does it have to do with putting my nerves back in the right place?” 

Brian wrenched a delicate clockwork piece back into place harder then he meant to, and Marius yelped. 

“How did you manage to do this anyway?” Brian asked, untangling another wire. He’d done his best to block the pain signals Marius’s arm would be sending him, but he couldn’t block all of it. 

“Fell, landed on my arm, didn’t die. You’re avoiding my question .”

“Fell from where?” Brian tapped one of the panels that covered the clockwork inside Marius’s arm. It was dented, although it looked like it had started to repair itself. 

“There was a fucking giant hole in the floor for no reason. I walked into it by mistake. And I can’t find it again, don’t bother asking. I looked.”

“The Aurora moves things.” Brian scowled at a broken wire. He’d have to replace the whole thing. “It’s very irritating sometimes.” 

“It is! And your stupid spaceship put a hallway in the middle of the floor. Marius scowled at his arm. “Thank you for fixing this- it hurt a lot and I didn’t feel like dying and regenerating- That would hurt worse.” 

Brian nodded and started threading the wire out of Marius’s arm. 

“ _ Fuck  _ that feels weird.” Marius shuddered. 

“I still have to put the new one in. This will take a little while.” Brian frowned. “Your arm is messed up pretty badly.” 

“Ahhh… ow.” Marius closed his eyes. “This is so strange.” 

Brian frowned and pulled out a couple bent gears. 

“You still didn’t answer.” Marius’s eyes were tight shut, and his left hand was tightly gripping the edge of his chair. “About your switch.” 

“It controls my morality.” 

“WHAT?” Marius’s eyes shot open. “That’s- that’s so fucked up!” 

Brian shrugged and started putting in a new gear. 

“What- what are the settings?” Marius was staring in shock and horror at Brian. 

“Ends justify means and means justify ends. I had to change it since I couldn’t cause you pain on MjE.” 

“That’s…” Marius shook his head. “That’s extremely fucked up. I’m at a loss for words.” 

“You get used to it.” Brian would never get used to it. Whatever he said, however he acted, he’d never get used to it. 

“That doesn’t mean it isn’t horrible!” Marius scowled. “Did Carmilla do it?” 

Brian dropped the spool of wire he was holding. 

“She did, didn’t she.” Marius said. “God, I- I wish I punched her. She wasn’t that bad to me at least- saved my life and all- but I’m glad I got away so quickly. She hurt all of you, I can tell.” 

“She did.” Brian didn’t want to talk about it, he wished he could just file the memories back into his head where he had hidden them. 

Marius glared at his arm. “This is stupid. I didn’t want to die, of course, but immortality  _ sucks  _ so far. I would have made it if I’d gotten to a hospital or something…” he trailed off into a frustrated sigh. “I’m sick of being killed all the goddamn time- Jonny shoots me on sight, and Tim isn’t much better.” 

Brian nodded. He could understand why they did it- Marius was a living reminder that carmilla was still out there. Jonny had airlocked her fair and square, and he hated to consider the idea that she might have possibly survived it. Brian had seen him shoot himself immediately after Marius- Jonny’s only coping mechanisms were killing and dying. 

“There- I still have to fix your fingers though.” 

“Oh-thank you so much.” Marius was still angry, making the thanks sound much less sincere. 

“And fix the panels, but you can probably do that. Or they’ll fix themselves after a while.” 

Marius nodded. “alright. Wait-“ 

Brian braced himself for another question about his switch. 

“ _ Anyone  _ can flip the switch?” 

“Yes.” 

“ _ What the fuck.” _

Brian silently continued his work. 

“Okay. I’m going to find Carmilla again and actually punch her this time.” 

“You won’t find her again.” the words startled Brian- they always did. 

“What does that mean?” 

“You won’t find her for- well, a very long time. Now please, be quiet, fingers are very fragile and complicated.” 

Marius nodded, and Brian carried out the rest of the repairs in silence. Marius thanked him, and Brian left, back to the bridge and his lonely thoughts. 


End file.
